


These Dreams We Share

by WingedWhale



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, In which Percival is a smoldering piece of sex on a stick, Jakob Kowalski is an adorable muffin of a man, M/M, New Creatures, Newt can be a bit of a bastard, Smut, ace!Tina, an OC or two - Freeform, but a loveable one, dream walkers, manipulation of space and time, pregnant!Queenie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-08 12:32:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15243465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingedWhale/pseuds/WingedWhale
Summary: Someone or something is conjuring people's nightmares in reality. Newt Scamander is desperately called back to America to help with a new case of unusual and epic proportions, solving a mystery the likes of which have never been documented before. Watch as he meets the real Percival Graves and sparks fly like the fourth of July. See how taking care of pregnant ladies isn't actually all that different from taking care of Magical Creatures, not that he'll be telling Kowalski that, mind you. Come for the plot stay for the porn. Or is it the other way around?





	1. In Which Two Wizards Meet For The First Time

Long distance Portkeys were a bitch. Newt Scamander would gladly attest to that. He massaged his forehead and temples and leaned one hand against the side of the second building he saw, trying not to give in to the urge to be sick onto the concrete. He'd even only had a meager breakfast of tea and thin toast. He was acutely aware that passersby were throwing a couple of concerned looks his way.

 _Bugger it all,_ he thought, holding onto his precious case. _I'll be fine._

He walked a block North towards the MACUSA Woolworth building. He made his way inside scanning the crowd for the familiar cute brunette, Tina Goldstein. She seemingly appeared out of nowhere at his side even though the building's front entrance was holding a throng of moving people and surely he would have heard her Disapparate . . .

Before he knew what hit him she threw her arms around his neck and planted a friendly kiss upon his cheek. He hugged her back with equal intensity. She then pulled back to look at him.

"You look a little pale," she remarked.

"I don't fair well with transatlantic Portkeys."

"Ah. I have just the tea for motion sickness. I'll get some and bring it into the Director's Office."

"The Director wants to see me?" he asked, his voice a little high.

"Yes, indeed. Are you okay with that?"

Newt blinked. "I have to be, haven't I?"

Tina sighed. "The letter you got from me, I told you there were several unknown creature attacks. Well, there's been another thirteen incidents. And it or they are using people's dreams of phobias, usually animal related, to manifest in reality. I wasn't allowed to write that bit. It's really bad, Newt. They travel through dreams like a Dream Walker does, but there's almost always real live creatures involved. Sometimes of the ordinary kind such as in the case of the Indian Ornamental tarantula colony conjured in an unfortunate wizard's bed in the Bronx. He was bitten twice before running from the building. There's no way this can be the work of a human being, the spells used to deliver the animals to the victims carry no wand signature. Graves is a good man. He'll like you. I'm sure of it."

"What happened to the tarantulas?"

"Some wizard who had a private spiderarium was called and he took the whole lot of fifteen."

"And you didn't consider him a suspect?"

"He had a rock solid alibi for the night in question."

"Well, lead on then. Honestly I can't think of what this might be. I've never heard of a creature that conjured other creatures. It's an interesting thought. I might actually discover something new!" Newt's voice now had a happy note of optimistic glee in it and Tina smiled thinly back at him.

"Nine people are dead, Newton. It would be good for you not to forget that fact when talking to Graves."

Newt had the decency to flush with embarrassment. "Sorry. Of course, the first priority is to stop it's streak of death and destruction."

"Just follow me."

Newt obeyed the woman, forcing his eyes not to drift down to admire her rather lovely rear.

_Merlin, what is wrong with me today?_

It seemed like in no time at all they were upstairs and entering the Director of MACUSA's division of Aurors and Newt had to will himself to look the man before him in the eyes. He swallowed hard, his mouth having gone suddenly uncomfortably dry.

Tina side-eyed him and gestured at Newt as if he were a large landmass on a map fixed to the wall and she was pointing him out. "This, is Newton Scamander."

Percival Graves raked his gaze over Newt's body, his back perhaps a touch more rigid than it had been before the Brit had walked into his office. His initial gaze was serious, shrewd, and courteous. He rose from his desk, stepped around it with a measured countenance and slow, easy steps. Newt would have much preferred standing in front of a raging Erumpent bull to meeting this man in such close quarters.

Percival Graves extended his hand to Newt. "I'm sorry to be meeting under such grave circumstances."

God help him, but Newt hesitated for nearly two full seconds before taking his hand. He inwardly cringed at his behavior. This man was _not_ Gellert Grindelwald. But of course that didn't mean he wasn't dangerous. This man, this _beautiful creature_ possessed a danger to Newt of altogether a different sort.

Last time, when he'd seen this man's face and physique, when he'd heard the baritone of his voice his mind had been full of erotic images of the two of them together. He'd been able to fight off all intruding thoughts of what this dangerous man could do by simply telling himself over and over that he would not break his professional code of ethics. But of course that had been Gellert, probably using Legilimency to mess with his mind. The Dark Wizard was a known homosexual.

Percival Graves? Who could say? It certainly wasn't Newt's business to know.

Newt somehow shook the other man's hand without any hint showing on his face or body that he would rather submit to the Cruciatus curse than touch this man. Somehow his brain had taken over and pulled his facial muscles into the proper set of expressions and he got through the encounter without fleeing the room and curling up into the fetal position inside his case and never coming out. Somehow, he'd managed not to gasp at the strength and warmth of the other man's hand. After the handshake, Percival waved his wand and turned his desk into a circular meeting table, complete with iced lemon water and vanilla wafers.

Newt was horrifyingly aware that still had yet to speak to the man. Both Tina and Percival raised their eyebrows at him.

"Sorry for my lack of manners, I'm not feeling quite well." It wasn't a lie.

"Let me get you that tea, it's just in my desk drawer," Tina told him.

Newt paled at the thought of being left _alone_ with Percival. Maybe a nice hole in the floor would open up and swallow him whole. Tina smiled at him and left the room before he could think to say anything against it. Graves sat down at the table and busied himself with pouring a glass of water as a palpable silence descended upon the room.

"You fear me," Graves said at length, looking at the ice cubes in his glass as if they were divining tea leaves.

"No!" Newt choked out quickly. "No. I don't fear _you._ I fear the memory."

Graves snorted. "So do I."

Newt grabbed a cookie and nibbled at it delicately. "Were you aware of what he did?"

"Only on a visceral level. I could feel emotions and states of being like anger, frustration, hunger, lust, pain. Lots of pain."

Newt's breath caught in his throat at the last word and he nearly choked on the god-damned baked good he'd just put into his mouth. What could he say to that?

"It was like being trapped in a grey wasteland, forced to feel a panoply of psychological torments."

Newt swallowed hard and took a steadying drink of water. There was a quaver in the other man's voice that shook Newt like a punch in the gut. _Oh God, what did that bastard do to him?_ Before he could think about what he was doing, Newt laid a hand on Percival's shoulder. The man turned in his seat and looked up at him. Dark chocolate eyes met peridot green. Newt's lips pressed together in a mixed expression of caring and human compassion. The weight of the other man's gaze searching his own nearly made him forget how to breathe.

Fortunately-though, there was a tiny traitorous part of Newt that thought perhaps unfortunately, Tina waltzed back into the room, oblivious to what had happened in her absence. She set a steaming mug of tea down in front of the chair next to the Director's left shoulder. Newt sat as Tina took her place on Graves' other side.

"Right," said Graves. "You got a self-notating quill?"

Newt nodded, and opened his case to a cacophony of animal sounds. He speedily retrieved his favorite self writing quill, closed and locked his case, setting it on the chair beside him and turned his attention back on the other man.

"At first we thought it was a Dream Walker working with a magizoologist," Graves stated.

Dream Walkers were witches and wizards who could dream inside other people's minds while they experienced their own REM sleep. Not always the most upstanding members of society they usually turned into criminals if they didn't become Aurors first.

"And you discarded that theory?"

"We've had to. There is no trace of any magic left at the scene of these attacks."

"How very odd," Newt said, to himself. "Is it always a creature that's conjured in the victim's bedroom? How did the nine that died meet their end?"

"It's whatever they're most afraid of. Besides the unfortunate witch who fell from a ten story building, who was clearly either afraid of heights or falling, four people were found dead in their beds of drowning, three died of venomous snake bites and one we think that's related to this case died in a fire that only scorched their body."

"Jesus," Newt muttered. "And there's no magic in the vicinity at all?"

"None we can detect."

"Any trace of spells used to shield the areas in question from magic?"

"Every crime scene has indications of anti spell shielding that prevents defensive magic from being utilized by the victims."

"The ones that died, did they die in their sleep or were they awake?"

"Now that, Mr. Scamander, is an _excellent_ question. We've not made any determination one way or the other. The man who was burned to death was still laying in his bed when we found him so that probably means he wasn't awake. The others are anyone's guess."

"Most creatures only attack when they are frightened or starving. The rest only do so to protect their territory. What's the distance radius of these attacks?"

"Ten miles," Graves replied. Newt blinked at him as if he were a Muggle seeing magic for the first time.

"Sorry, that means nothing to me. Civilised society uses kilometers."

At this, Graves cracked a grin. The man's eyes crinkled in wry amusement and Newt couldn't help thinking he might like to see more of that look.

"Ten miles to kilometers, convert," Newt told his quill. He grabbed the parchment and took a look. "Ah, I see now."

"Oh, I'm so glad. I was afraid you were going to expect me to do the math."

Newt grinned wide. "Civilised people say 'maths' with an 'S'"

Graves gave him a look. "You know what?" he asked in a conspiratorial tone.

"What?" Newt asked.

"I don't give a single shit." A cocky half smile played at Graves' lips.

"Duly noted." An answering smiled tweaked at the corners of Newt's mouth.

Graves finally turned away, letting out a gusty exhalation.

"Where are you staying, Scamander?"

"Oh-I-"

"With me," Tina chimed in delightedly. "And I won't take no for an answer. Queenie is driving me nuts with her pregnancy hormones. And you two didn't hear that from me. You are solemnly sworn to secrecy."

Graves gave her an inquiring look. "Not to pry but why is she still living with you?"

Tina sighed dramatically. "I ask myself that a lot actually. Why does Queenie ever do anything? But instead of having _sense,_ she wants a god damned summer wedding. It's fucking March!" She glanced between the two men. "Have I said too much?"

They cast a glance at each other before vigorously shaking their heads to the negative. Tina laughed. Well more like _cackled_ with glee.

"I'll leave you two to it then," said Graves. "Mr. Scamander, it was a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance." The man held out his hand again and Newt felt his pulse quicken. He quickly wondered what was worse shaking this man's hand or putting his own hand in a lake of lava. In the end, it was a toss-up really. Thankfully, his body reacted seemingly quite in spite of the thoughts going through his mind and he clapped Percival Graves' hand in a solid handshake, a polite smile donning his face.

"The pleasure's all mine. I'm always happy to help."

"I'll bet you are," Graves said softly, almost under his breath as if he hadn't realized he'd spoken the thought aloud. Newt however heard the sentence as clear as crystal. He would have perhaps just continued standing there, entranced until the end of time were it not for the fact that Tina wisely chose to rescue him.

Tina smiled. "Come on, Newt. Let's get home before Queenie's done with work." As she steered him by his elbow out the door, Newt finger waved good-bye to Graves. The Director tipped his head in a regal nod, his eyes glittering. He really did have the most devastatingly beautiful set of eyes a man could ever hope to have. Not that Newt would ever openly admit to such a truth.


	2. In Which Newt Becomes One Of The Girls

As Tina walked with Newt to her apartment, her arm linked through his elbow, the American Auror cast him a considering look. Feeling the weight of her gaze, Newt met her not-quite-inconspicuous glance.

"What?" he asked.

"Well," she said. "Madame President Piquery has passed legislation that bans the use of disillusionment spells in front of No-Majes unless the situation is absolutely life threatening,"

Newt raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure I have no idea where you're going with this."

"You remember my landlady, right? Strict but charming no-maj granny type?"

Newt blinked very, very slowly. Like an owl, or perhaps a cat. "I guess, what about her?"

"Given the time, I'm almost positive she is at home right now and she can't see you looking like this."

"Whatever are you on about woman?"

Tina exhaled gustily. "She can't see you and think that you're a man."

To his credit, Newt gave Tina a gentle arch stare. "What the devil are you suggesting?"

Smiling crookedly. Tina reached into her bag and drew her wand. "Just a little change in wardrobe."

"A change in-Oh, hang on just one minute!" Newt stopped on the sidewalk and literally put his foot down. "Are you suggesting that I put on women's clothes to get into your building?"

Tina had the decency to look slightly abashed. "Well . . . Yes. Yes, that's exactly what I'm suggesting. You _do_ have the build and voice for it. But really, I can say you're French or something and you won't even have to speak."

There was a silence as Newt considered her 'plan'.

"Just so we're clear, you'd be transfiguring my clothing only, _right?_ "

Tina rolled her eyes at the implication. "Oh, for heaven's sake. What, do you think I'm some lonely lesbian looking to transform my male friend into a woman so he'll go out with me?"

Newt searched her gaze. Then the tension died and they both burst out laughing.

"Fine," he declared as they started walking again. "But I'm rather attached to this jacket."

"You'll get it back as good as new, I promise."

Newt huffed out a breath. "Why can't I just hop inside the case and have you carry it into the apartment."

"Because, Newt, if she hears the floorboards in the bathroom creak with more than two sets of footsteps she'll think that there's a man in the apartment and come snooping!"

Newt groaned. "Fucking hell," he muttered.

"Pretty much," she agreed. She stood in front of him, wand drawn. "Now don't move, I don't want to rip any of your clothing." She peered at him intensely and then airily waved her wand. Newt's clothes coalesced into a pink, white, and navy blue flower print dress. Tina grinned. "Ah-ha! Just one last thing," she told him before a dark brunette wig settled on his head, a stylish bob and to punctuate the whole ensemble Tina materialized a navy blue felt cap with a large white and pink flower on top of the hairpiece.

Newt fixed her with the look of the greatly tried and unamused. "Really?" he asked.

The auror beamed at him. "You should see yourself. It really suits you, though maybe I should have chosen yellow flowers instead of the pink to bring out the green in your eyes."

"For Christ's sake woman, I'm not going to be in a bloody fashion show."

Tina looked Newt up and down one more time, before her eyes went wide. "Shit, I almost forgot your shoes!"

Newt made a whining noise in the back of his throat. "Can't I just be a weird Frenchwoman who likes to wear men's shoes?"

"I don't want to chance it." Aiming her wand at his feet, his good leather shoes turned into black short heeled feminine footwear. Newt sighed and shook his head.

"Happy now?" he asked her defeatedly.

"Ecstatic!" she announced. She held out her hand and he rather cautiously took it.

"The things you talk to me into," he mused.

She smiled. "You really look good." Newt snorted in amusement.

"Do you have a name picked out if your landlady expects an introduction?"

Tina tilted her head for a moment and looked at Newt.

"You look like an Yvette."

Newt just walked on and shook his head. "Splendid."

A few minutes later they entered the building and the no-maj old woman who managed the place nearly walked into them as the entered the hall as she was carrying a large basket of laundry and couldn't quite see over the top.

"Hello, Miss Tina," the woman said, shifting the basket to her hip. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Yvette, ma'am. She's my second cousin, visiting from France for awhile."

"Paris?" the woman asked.

"Marseille," Newt told her, affecting a more feminine sounding voice.

"How nice, let me know if you need anything during your stay."

"Of course," said Newt.

He and Tina took the stairs as the landlady went her way down the hall. As soon as Tina shut the apartment door, Newt leveled a look at her. "Don't you dare laugh." He ripped off the hat and wig beneath and tossed it on the floor, the temporarily conjured items would disappear in a quarter hour or so.

"Who me? I wouldn't dream of it. You were so utterly convincing you should try acting sometime."

Newt let out a little ridiculous sounding laugh. "Please, just change my clothes back."

"Oh, right." Tina flicked her wand in a little pattern and Newt's clothes were back, none the worse for wear.

"If you make me do that again, I might have to feed my Nundu a pretty Jewish girl."

Tina snorted dismissively and started levitating clothing that was strewn on the floor into a semi neat pile on the back of the sofa. "Newt, you're such a riot."

"Glad you think so."

"You must have had quite a reputation at Hogwarts,"

"If I did I can tell you it was absolutely none of my design. Besides, I'm sure you were quite the hellion at Ilvermorny."

Tina shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe." Newt simply shook his head and took out his wand and helped her tidy up the sitting room. Suddenly his stomach growled.

"Sorry," he mumbled with a smirk.

"Do you like brisket, Newt?"

"Um, . . . Sure?" he replied. He really had no feelings one way or the other on the meat. Though, protein was protein.

"Good, I made one last night while Queenie was at dinner with Jacob."

"Wow. You're a real catch, you can cook and clean!"

"Shut it, you!" she said lightly smacking him in the bicep.

"What are you hitting me for, woman? I'm merely speaking the truth."

"I'm not a catch," she told him. "I don't even want to date anyone."

"No?"

"No."

"Can I ask you one question in all seriousness?"

"Ask away."

"Do you think Director Graves is physically attractive?"

Tina's eyes went wide. "Newton Scamander! Are you saying you have a crush on the Director of MACUSA Security?"

"You aren't answering the bloody question." Newt lifted a brow at her as she smiled from ear to ear.

"I can see why you'd find him attractive," she responded. "Personally, I haven't felt even the slightest bit of physical attraction a day in my life."

"Really? What's your secret?"

"I have no idea. I just am the way I am."

Newt cocked his head. "Do you think we can just erase the part in the conversation where I admitted to fancying your boss?"

"You mean you don't want to tell Queenie?"

Newt's eyes went wide. "No! Absolutely not!"

Tina smirked. "She'd have a field day trying to set the two of you up if she knew."

"God, I can only imagine. Well, I suppose I'll see myself to my room and get settled in."

Twenty minutes later, Newt emerged from the Goldstein's spare bedroom and office with Pickett sitting the pocket of his suit jacket. Tina smiled at the diminutive creature. She leaned in close and looked at him straight on.

"Do you want some apple juice, Little Guy?"

The Bowtruckle stared at her, a little taken aback at a witch talking to him with the courtesy and respect she afforded her own species. He then nodded his little head. She got four glasses out of the cupboard and poured a generous amount of juice into three of them and then poured a third of a glass for Pickett and plunked a spoon into it for the Bowtruckle to drink from. Newt settled down at the table and spooned out some juice, holding it up to the creature's face. Pickett drank from the silverware and chittered happily. Newt beamed at Tina.

"He likes it very much."

"I can tell," she said quite happily.

Then, the door swung open an Queenie entered with a squeak of joy at the sight of Newt. He stood up from the table and wisely had the presence of mind to put his Bowtruckle friend on the table before the woman enveloped him in a rib cracking hug.

"Newt, Darling! You look as dashing as ever!"

"And you're positively glowing!"

She beamed at him. "Am I? I actually got an owl today with some very exciting news!"

"Oh?" Tina asked her.

"I'm having twins!"

"Wow, that's great news!" Newt exclaimed. "Jacob'll probably faint."

"He probably will," she told him with a smile.

Even Pickett chirped in celebration. Queenie went over and petted him gently with her fingertip.

"Are they giving you apple juice?" she asked him. She got a cheep-cheep in response.

"You know, this is actually the first time he's ever had the stuff. Back in Wizarding Britain we generally drink more Pumpkin juice than we do apple juice. But when I do have a glass and Pickett is with me I can't say he ever wanted to try some. Anyways, I have no doubt this little guy is going to be asking for apple juice all the time when we get back to Britain."

"At least it's not booze," Queenie told him. Newt smiled. She stretched her arms languorously and arched her spine to relax her muscles after a long day of work. "Well, Sis, I hope you made enough food because I'm pretty sure I could eat a whole hippogriff."

"All I have is this dearly departed cow I'm afraid." Tina lifted the brisket she had been warming in the oven.

"That smells amazing, Tina Goldstein, did you make this all by yourself?"

"Yes, Queenie. Don't look so surprised. I can cook when I want to."

The legilimens puther hands on her hips. "Okay, name the last time you 'cooked' and didn't burn something?"

"This brisket's not burnt! I promise! I worked really hard on it!"

"Okay," said Queenie. "Let me just go wash up and I'll be back in a jiffy."

Newt moved Pickett from his pocket to his shoulder and then gave the little creature another few drinks of apple juice.

"Wait until I tell you two what my fool brother is doing," Newt commented.

Tina set out bread and butter and a bowl full of washed lettuce tossed in a simple vinaigrette. She then used her wand to set down a large bowl filled with little red boiled potatoes. Queenie returned and sat down across from Newt, smiling at Pickett. Finally, Tina brought the main course to the table complete with carving knife and sat down next to Newt. With a wave of her wand she set the knife to cutting the meat. Pieces then levitated through the air and onto everyone's plate.

"I told Jacob you'd be back in New York, and he's really look forward to seeing you again."

Newt smiled. "And I him. Tell me, how long was it before the memory charm reversed itself?"

"About a hundred days. Worst time of my life. I was crying myself to sleep, getting horrible headaches during the day, and having some really depressing dark thoughts."

Newt's face creased in sympathy. "Oh, wow. That sounds truly horrific."

Queenie snorted. "That's one way to describe it. Fucking terrible are the words I like to use."

"You must have a very strong bond with Jacob to overcome such a powerful Obliviate."

"He completes me and I complete him. We are of the same soul."

"That's a beautiful sentiment."

"It's true," she said simply. "That man has the heart of a lion and the soul of a phoenix. He's incredibly kind, patient, and completely guileless. He's strong, utterly giving of himself, and indomitably optimistic. He makes me laugh and I want to cry at the beauty of the moment. And between us, he is without a doubt the most attentive and enthusiastic lover I have ever had." Queenie sighed.

Newt blinked. He slid a look at Tina to gauge her reaction.

"Please stop before you talk about your orgasms, Queenie! I really don't want to hear it for the fifteen thousandth time and I'm sure Newt would rather hear about something other than your sex life."

"Actually," he said. "I don't mind your talk at all. You'll find I'm a very open and progressive fellow."

Tina shot him a look. "Hey now, I thought we were in this foxhole together!"

Newt shrugged and cracked a lopsided grin as he buttered a piece of bread. "I'm a magizoologist, I study sex for a living. Besides, Tina, your sister has some very powerful hormones coursing through her right now and they have certain effects on her brain."

"Right. I'll just keep to my corner and laugh at you idiots as you compare notes on sexual encounters."

"Bisexuals do have the most fun, don't we, Newt?"

Newt let out a barking laugh. "I won't even ask how you picked _that_ out of my brain."

"It takes one to know one. But really, your spirit reeks of bisexuality."

Newt's eyebrows shot up. "Huh. Does it really?"

Queenie nodded. She took a sip of juice before saying, "I promise I don't dig below the surface."

Newt smirked. He made a mental note to tamp down on idle thoughts whilst in the legilimens presence. He was legitimately worried that the woman would have him and Director Graves out on a blind date in the next forty-eight hours if she knew he was deeply attracted to the man. A tiny voice said that perhaps that wouldn't be an altogether bad idea.

"Want to hear about my brother's latest mission for The Ministry of Magic?" he asked, smoothly changing the subject.

"Sure."

"Theseus got tasked to retrieve pirate treasure on the island of Nassau. It has something to do with some dispute about some sort of debt with the goblins of Gringott's, the Wizard bank in London. Now that would be bad enough, right?" The sisters nodded in sympathy. "Yeah, my parents and I thought the same thing. You should have seen my mum cry when she heard the assignment was in the year 1713. Have you ever heard of the mu-sorry-no-maj book Treasure Island? Apparently one of the characters mentioned in that book was based on a real pirate that was a wizard. His legend for this mission closely matches the description of the wizard in the book."

"How is he getting there? Timeturners can't-"

"Unspeakables are sending him, whatever _that_ entails."

"Shit Newt that sounds awful!"

"I know. He's supposed to work with that pirate to get the gold back to Britain. Essentially changing history."

"Your poor mother," Queenie said.

Newt sighed. "I know."

"How long is this mission supposed to last?"

"Several months. History says that the pirate wizard in question gave up piracy and settled in America and never returned the gold to Britain. Why that is, history doesn't say. Theseus is going to find him and get him to help him escort the gold across the Atlantic."

"Changing history . . . That's some serious magic."

"Indeed. I sincerely hope he doesn't get himself killed."

Queenie squeezed his hand reassuringly. "He's whip smart and thinks well on his feet right?" Newt nodded. "Well then, there you go. I'm sure he was picked for this job because of his impeccable skills."

"Still, I'm glad I don't have his job. I can't afford to get killed, I have too many lives depending on me."

The sisters looked at one another and smiled warmly. Then Tina stood up.

"Who wants some strawberry cheesecake?"

* * *

Across the city in the posh district of New York's finest witches and wizards, Percival Graves stood out on his balcony in one of the first seasonably warm spring nights, his beloved cherry wood violin under his chin, the bow poised in his hand. He played a series of soft haunting notes, putting a beautiful vibrato into the end of the musical phrase. 

The instrument had been in his mother's family for generations passed down as an heirloom. The instrument had been made in Italy and would fetch at least twenty thousand dollars in the right no-maj pawn shop. The violin was as much a part of him as his right arm. He had been choked with fear that Grindelwald had found it and had hocked it for gold. He also couldn't understand why no-one was more concerned than they had been about his sudden lack of playing when Gellert Grindelwald had done what he did.

This instrument was an outlet for his pain and traumatized mind, a way of expressing beauty in a sea of soul-choking darkness. He played more and noticed that some people were coming out onto their own balconies to hear him play. He played a mournful Russian folktale and at the end half a dozen people clapped.

He continued playing the sweet pure bright notes of a song he was writing himself pouring into the warm night air. And then, wholly unbidden yet quite welcome in his thoughts, the face of Newt Scamander settled gently into the forefront of his mind. He played a soft, beautiful little melody.

For the first time since the incident that nearly killed him, Percival Graves smiled to himself in gentle, content happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's my nod to The Danish Girl.  
> My Theseus Scamander is totally Toby Stephens.  
> And my aesthetic is totally Percival fucking Graves playing his violin.


	3. In Which Newt Befriends A New Creature

After debating whether he should bring his case back to the Woolworth for the day, Newt decided it was better to have it with him, just in case something happened that required him to collect a creature. Tina said she'd soon get him his very own ID badge so that he could come and go as he liked. She'd been up before five, but then, so had he, making sure each and every one of his beasts and creatures had a proper breakfast as well as a good pat.

He was inclined to say he was a morning person, but then the coffee he kept down in his case may or may not have actually been Muggle airplane fuel. It certainly had enough caffeine to make a small village bright eyed and bushy tailed. This morning when Tina had popped down into the case carefully carrying a cup of her own brew, Newt couldn't turn it down.

Now he was a bit more awake than he would have liked as there was a feeling of ants crawling over his skin and his left eyelid twitched annoyingly. He'd probably be up for days. Of course, he did have a few bottles of sleep potions that were potent enough to knock out even the most hardcore of caffeine addicts.

Tina gently stroked Dougal the Demiguise's head and with Newt's permission, gave the ape a large strawberry.

"You're going to make my creatures accustomed to food that really they should only be getting as occasional treats.."

"Oh, you mean you think they'll start turning their noses up at their breakfast hoping for a treat instead?"

Newt rolled his eyes as they exited the case. "Hopefully not."

Tina patted him on the shoulder. "I won't bribe your creatures with foodstuffs to like me then." Newt snorted disdainfully.

They apparated and walked into MACUSA's auror department.

"You'll be sharing my office, Newt. There's just enough space in there to put another writing desk and a chair. I'm sure they'll find a bigger space once they process your new ID."

Newt waved a hand dismissively. "Given how slow bureaucracy can be I might just as easily be gone and on my way to my next destination before things get finalized."

"Aww, are you tired of my company already?"

"It's not you, I promise. It's just the way things inevitably go."

Tina sighed. "Okay. But promise me one thing."

"What's that?"

"Don't forget to enjoy yourself while you're here. Mercy knows you need some rest and relaxation, maybe even a little fun."

Newt laughed as they entered Tina's office. "I don't know those words, do I?" he asked playfully.

"Just let it not be said that I didn't try. Can I get you a second cup of coffee?"

"God, no!" he said quickly, startling the Auror. "Just maybe some apple juice?"

"Apple juice it is."

Newt settled into his seat, charming a cushion onto the hard chair and then looking through the provided parchment paper, ink and quills. He began jotting down questions he had about the creatures being conjured by people's phobias.

Were they really _real_ honest-to-goodness animals that were either conjured from a point near the victims once they reached REM sleep or were they all just cleverly crafted constructs, with all details of the real things intact? Were those Indian Ornamental tarantulas still thriving in their new home? If so that would suggest that someone took the time to pluck them all from their tree in the Indian rainforest simply to scare a very unlucky wizard.

Newt ran a hand through his hair as he pondered the thought. It would be _much_ easier to just get magically created creature constructs to mimic the real thing. Nobody in their right mind would pull creatures over mind-numbingly vast distances merely to make a point or play some kind of sick prank. The fact that only nine people had died was a miracle if this person possessed such skill with a wand that that they could yank animals through a portal in space. Newt's stomach clenched painfully at the thought.

A gentle knock on the open door roused him from his thoughts. Newt snapped his attention away from his messy notes to be met with the smiling face of the last person he wanted to see without a god-damned chaperone present at all times. His stomach twitched and flipped as if it had become a wild creature itself. In a few more minutes he'd be surely running to the gent's loo.

"Working hard already?" Percival asked. He was wearing a charcoal grey vest with his white shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow.

Newt swallowed hard and forced his best poker face to descend upon his features, just like Theseus had taught him. He didn't need to think about all the reasons why it should be absolutely illegal for the man to utter the word _hard_ in a situation such as this one. If Percival only knew . . . Merlin, he'd probably be dead. Fucking poker face, indeed.

"Where's Porpentina? Or did you eat her for breakfast?"

Newt's eyelids fluttered. He was dearly afraid that if he spoke his voice would crack like he was thirteen again.

"You swallowed her whole, huh?"

Newt's neck now felt uncomfortably hot. He wondered what would happen if he faked a collapse or maybe even a seizure. _Merlin's balls, I won't have to fake either if he keeps staring at me like that._ _Really, where the fuck is Tina? She better be held up by Grindelwald himself._

"What can I do for you?" Newt asked smoothly. _Bravo, old boy, you didn't get sick all over yourself._

"I brought you and Miss Goldstein breakfast," Percival said shaking the paper bag he was holding in his hand. He walked into the office and Newt willed himself to hold the other man's gaze like a calm and collected human being and not some manic and deranged garden gnome. "Though, I suppose if you ate Porpentina, you probably aren't very hungry." He held out the bag and Newt accepted it. He opened it and looked inside. Then, his head shot back up again in speechless wonder. Percival's grin became a truly beautiful smile, an utter joy to behold.

Newt took out a napkin and then carefully lifted out one of the pastries. It was a cinnamon roll. A cinnamon roll in the shape of an occamy. Newt grinned like an idiot. The attention to detail on this edible delight was astonishing.

"Where did you get this?"

Percival leaned comfortably against the wall. "Queenie Goldstein's fiancé."

Newt fingered the head of the creature, almost expecting the thing to come to life in his hand. He looked up with a true smile of thanks aimed at Percival Graves and for once he wasn't anxious about looking him in the eye.

"Wow, thank you!"

Percival smirked. "You're meant to eat it, Mr. Scamander, not treat it like your favorite pet." Newt rolled his eyes. Then just to prove to the man that he could in fact eat a confection that resembled one of his favorite animals, Newt ripped the head off and popped it in his mouth. He found the neck and head were filled with vanilla frosting and surprisingly, it really wasn't too sweet.

"See?" he asked after he'd finished chewing and swallowing.

"Oh, I do." Percival answered simply. Though was there an undercurrent of want in his tone? Or was he just being abysmally bad at people reading? There was a reason he only picked up men and or women in shady pubs and kept the relationships short and very strictly sexual. He was no good at social niceties, despite his reputation for well, being _a nice guy_. He removed another portion of occamy-roll. Now that the head was gone, eating the rest was easy as cake.

"Might I see one of those Indian Ornamental tarantulas?" he asked.

Percival blinked, considering the question. "Why?" he asked.

"I'd like to assess it's health. I want to determine if the magic used to teleport it is adversely affecting its vitality."

Percival scratched the back of his neck. "I'll contact the guy who has them and see if he can bring one or two in for you."

"Thanks, that'd be smashing!"

"You bloody Brits and your funny words!" Percival exclaimed in a perfect Irish accent. Newt's brows shot up. In the following seconds he would swear to anyone who heard him recall this tale that his body breathed by force of magic alone. For if he wasn't hopelessly attracted to the man before, this little _gem_ of an attribute made Percival Graves that much more alluring. It was all he could do not to audibly gasp.

Then, Tina finally returned from wherever she had been (Australia probably) and set a tall glass of apple juice on Newt's desk. Newt thought about keeping the second occamy-roll to himself. She smiled at Percival.

"Talking about anything interesting?"

Newt merely handed her the bag. She set her coffee down and retrieved her own occamy-roll.

"Thanks, I love these things! Definitely better than the cream filled niffler. But then, I love cinnamon."

"There's a niffler?!" Newt asked excitedly spinning around so fast he almost made the chair fall over.

"I'll come back later," Percival told them. "Hopefully with your tarantula guy."

Newt couldn't think of anything to say so he merely nodded. Then, Percival's wand buzzed where it was holstered at his side.

"Dangerous Creature Alert at 512 Smithfield Avenue!" The voice was a shaky sounding male Auror. Newt immediately stood up. So did Tina.

Percival spoke into his wand, "Is that you, O'Brien? Did you come across this on patrol this morning?"

"No, sir, I was called. It's barricaded in a closet. A witch woke up with it on her face and started screaming, said she was having a dream-a nightmare-about . . . Intelligent squids that lived in trees . . ."

"Are you jerking my chain, O'Brien?"

"No, sir! That's why I'm only just now alerting you. I thought it was a prank when I first heard the call. I wouldn't even have shown up to the apartment had the fear in the woman's voice been any less apparent. The thing would have gone for her jugular had she not slept with her wand in bed with her."

Newt's eyes went wide. He literally tugged on Percival's sleeve to get his attention.

"Ask how long its main pair of tentacles are."

"Is it even still alive?" Percival asked, his words a little harsh.

"The door's rattling, so yes? I wouldn't have buzzed you directly if I thought the threat had been neutralized. I don't think we have much longer before it realizes it can use its beak to cut through the wooden slats."

"How long are its tentacles do you think?"

"Two feet or so? Why?"

"Because I'm here with a magizoologist."

"The one set looks to be a bit longer than that, maybe thirty-two, thirty-three inches?"

"Christ, it's a baby!" Newt cried out in indignation.

"O'Brien before I let you go so we can apparate to your location, I need to know: What spell did the woman use to get the squid off of her?"

"That's just it . . . She couldn't use any magic so she stabbed it in the belly with her wand as a weapon. Like a dagger."

"Alright. I'll be right there along with Goldstein and Newt Scamander."

"Please don't wait too long, Sir."

Percival's wand went quiet and as the three of them headed into the hallway, he cast Newt a look.

"Do you know what this is?" Percival asked.

"It's a Tree Squid from Indonesia."

"Of course it fucking is," Percival muttered. "Do you have every animal known to man and magic memorized?"

"Just about, sir." Newt said confidently. "I have an eidetic memory."

They were now just leaving the building. "Yeah, well I'm the only one with a mental image of this entire goddamned city stuck in my brain so I'll apparate both of you with me." At this, Percival held out his hands.

Newt took it without trepidation. Tina was actually the one to hesitate just a fraction. Clearly she was turning around in her head the idea of intelligent squid that lived on land. Then they were hurtling through space and rematerialized in the fifth floor hallway of an upper middle-class apartment building. They drew their wands and all but ran down the corridor and Percival pounded on the door.

As if on cue, O'Brien admitted the three of them into the apartment. The interior was meticulously clean and decorated with an eye for design. The walls in the kitchen were a pleasant yellow, giving way to a gradient of blues along the high vaulted ceiling of the sitting room and dining area. The carpet was a beautiful oyster shell flecked with silver fibers and the kitchen's white tile nearly glowed.

A pretty witch about thirty-five years old with black hair and piercing blue eyes stood up form her stool at the marble kitchen island. A tumbler full of whisky on the rocks in her hand. Even now, with O'Brien at the scene, she was still shaking.

"I'm Clara Lee," she told them, her voice frayed almost as bad as her nerves. "I'm a healer." She sighed with exhaustion as if she could barely force herself to talk and all she dearly wanted to do was collapse in a heap in a place far, far away. "I spent a year giving magical medical care to the people living in Indonesia a few years back and the tribal elders always warned me to never go into the forest alone, even with my wand drawn. They said there were creatures lurking in the tree branches at night that would jump down on me and take me for prey. They wouldn't even say what the creature was called. Then I pressed a young warrior I had made friends with and he said they were called-"

"Tentacled horrors," Newt finished for her. Clara nodded.

"I was looking for a missing child on horseback in the jungle one night, I saw a horror take a deer. It latched on with its beak to the deer's face. My horse spooked and luckily the child had seen the same thing and started screaming. I thought for sure that we were going to be their next meal. Thank God the things were busy with that deer and I was able to get the child back to the village. I've never stopped having nightmares though. I sleep with my wand out of a compulsory need to feel safe."

"Right," said Newt, shifting from foot to foot in order to proceed this business along to actually getting to the very real tree squid trapped in the woman's wardrobe. "Not to dismiss your feelings, but I'm here to see the animal." Clara visibly shuddered.

"My bedroom's down that hall." She pointed in the direction they needed to go. "Do ignore my dirty clothes all over the floor. I've been working night shifts at the hospital."

Newt ran down the hallway before Clara had even finished her sentence, flicking open the latches on his case as he went. Percival sighed and went after him.

"Newt, wait!"

The magizoologist looked over his shoulder. "What?"

"What are you going to do if that thing in there needs to be put down?"

Newt's brows knit tightly in discomfort. "I'll do whatever needs doing, Mr. Graves. Do you think I'm too soft to administer the final mercy?"

"No, I just want you to be prepared. That's all. I know you don't normally work in this kind of environment."

Newt's lips thinned in thought as he regretted having snapped at the Director.

"Sorry."

"No worries."

Together they entered Clara's bedroom. They exchanged a look. The woman hadn't been kidding. The carpet was covered with dresses, stockings, and underpants. Newt thought that perhaps he'd find another creature under all the detritus of apparel.

Then suddenly the closet door rattled.

"If it's healthy enough to do that I think it should be okay." Newt looked at Percival. "Now, tree squids, like their oceanic cousins communicate in a series of flashes of light. They have chromatophores all over their bodies and tentacles. I'm going to send a friendly signal under the crack of the door here with my wand. Will you please do the same but through the slats about sixty centimeters up?" At Percival's blank look Newt rolled his eyes. "For fuck's sake, just call it two feet or so."

Somewhat reluctantly, Newt lay down on his stomach on Clara's dirty laundry. At least it didn't smell too bad. The wooden door rattled once again, this time harder and more insistent than before. Newt sent up a series of light motes, the light pulsing in short sharp bursts. Percival knelt beside him and did the same thing in the location Newt indicated. He counted slowly to five and then sent up another signal of long, short, long bursts of light.

Again Percival followed suit on his end.

"Now turn the light blue," Newt said as he sent a long series of six three second pulses under the crack. Percival was right there with him, doing the same exactly in sync with Newt's signaling.

"Now the final one, a series of bubble like bursts of blue light."

Together, the American Director of MACUSA security and the British Magizoologist signaled to whatever was inside the closet that they were no threat. They waited in silence for the thing to make some kind of response. Then, to Newt's utter delight a lone tentacle poked under the gap in the door and flashed a veritable rainbow of different colors. Newt adopted a kneeling position just as Graves had done and he peered through the slat at eye level to see if he could make the creature out in the darkness. Newt grinned wide as the Tree Squid squealed and squeaked at him.

"I'm going to open the door."

Percival sighed. "I _knew_ you were going to say that."

He rose from the floor and stood a good yard away. Newt undid the locking charm on the door and gently slid the door open, pocketing his wand as he did so. From within the darkness, long blue and gold spotted grey tentacles emerged, somewhat tentatively, somewhat inquisitively, followed by a body topped by a wide membranous fin. The Tree Squid's eyes were black and silver and had a knowing glint. It looked at Newt almost mournfully, if cephalopods were capable of feeling loss and Newt fervently believed that they did. The creature let out a rather pathetic sounding series of low pitched squeaks.

"I know little guy, I miss home too."

The squid crawled across the floor to Newt and he stooped to carefully pick the creature up. The squid's body without the tentacles was the size of a rather fat small dog. Percival looked askance at Newt as the squid wound two of its long tentacles around his neck loosely.

"It's okay!" he said quickly.

"Are you even aware how much paperwork I would personally be required to fill out if this thing were to sever your artery right now?"

"It'd be right headache for you, I'm sure." The baby tree squid squeaked and flashed at Newt, its sounds sounding suspiciously like little cries. "I know little guy, I agree he can be scary when he wants to be but really he's mostly bluster."

The squid only seemed to 'cry' louder at this. Newt gently coaxed him to reveal his underside so that he could inspect the flesh around his beak. There was indeed a puncture wound, but fortunately it hadn't damaged any serious structures. Newt waved his wand in a fast healing spell and the squid angled its large eye at him in what could only be described as cephalopod surprise. The squid then opened it's beak and revealed a crystal amulet swirling with translucent liquid on a gleaming silver chain. After a series of pulsing colors and patterns of shapes Newt got clear mental images of the squid's attacker, not the one in the other room, but the one that had ripped the squidlet from its home group in the deep jungles of Indonesia.

"Do you have an evidence bag?" Newt asked.

Percival's eyes widened as he stared at the amulet. "Is that from the asshole who's orchestrating this whole thing?" Newt only nodded. Percival reached into his back pocket and held out the bag to Newt.

"Um, . . . Director Graves, sir, can you maybe take the squid whilst I extract the necklace from his mouth? I'd do it the other way but I don't think he'll trust you with your wand in his face."

Percival's brows rocketed up into his hairline. Then after a brief pause: "Fine." Newt transferred his new friend into the arms of the wonderfully obliging Director. Newt then carefully extracted the necklace without touching it and sealed the paper bag with magic. In the ten seconds that he had turned his back on the pair, the squid had its tentacles wrapped around Percival's neck, the man holding its body cradled against his chest. It nearly made Newt misty eyed to see the proud and powerful Percival Graves holding a baby Tree Squid in much the same manner as he'd hold a human baby. Percival patted it gently and it squeaked and squealed and flashed with a burst of blue light.

"I think he likes you," Newt told the Director. Percival let out a cryptic snort, either amused or unamused Newt really couldn't say. Newt went up and collected the squid from around Percival's neck. Then two seconds later it started crying again sounding disturbingly like a human child. Newt slid his gaze to Percival.

"Since you helped 'rescue' him as it were, he thinks you're his new friend."

Percival cocked his head at Newt, as if he thought he was a raving lunatic, but Newt noticed how serious and understanding the man's dark eyes were.

"Newt Scamander, are you telling me that this Tree Squid is essentially the equivalent of an abandoned puppy?"

"Basically," Newt replied. As if to emphasize the point, the baby Tree Squid extended a tentacle to Percival.

"Oh, for the love of fucking Christ," the man muttered. "Give him here."

In that moment, Newt could have kissed the gruff and somewhat taciturn Auror out of sheer love for his inherent kindness and understanding. Newt transferred the squid back to Percival. The man smiled when it squeak-burbled happily. Newt's heart clenched in a wholly unfamiliar feeling of affection towards another human being. The situation was utterly and completely ridiculous.

Then Tina poked her head into the room and gasped in shock.

"It's okay," Percival told her as she cautiously stepped into the room.

"Damn," she said quietly, staring at the creature. She approached and the squid drew himself up further into the crook of Percival's neck, pulling his long tentacles up into as tight of a ball as he could manage. Percival flicked his gaze down at the creature which blinked red and blue.

"I don't think he likes strangers yet," Percival told her.

"Oh, he needn't worry, I'm not coming any closer than this."

Newt gave Tina the necklace he had found inside the creature's mouth.

"This should be a serious break in the case!" she said excitedly.

"With any luck," Newt told her.

"Can Clara come in and see it? She said she wanted to confront her fears."

Newt nodded. "That should be fine. Just tell her to give him some space."

Tina stared at Newt. "Do I want to know how you know it's a 'he'?"

"Psychic communication."

"Ah," she responded as if it were the most natural thing in the world to communicate with sentient tree dwelling cephalopods on a daily basis. Tina then popped into the hall and returned withO'Brien and Clara. Clara's brows shot into her hairline.

"It's not so bad from standing over here," she told them. She looked apologetically at Newt. "Can you tell it I'm sorry for stabbing it?"

 _God, why can't all people be this reasonable?_  Newt simply nodded. He looked at the squid and communicated the woman's message in pictures that the squid would understand.

"Do you want to pet him?" Newt asked. Clara looked askance at the creature. Then, she nodded. "Just approach him slowly and then put your hand on his mantle,"

Clara followed his instructions and she even scratched the squid by his fins.

"I'm so sorry, little guy. Do you think you can forgive me?"

The squid flashed blue then green. Newt beamed.

"Is that a yes?" she asked.

"A resounding one, at that."

"Can I . . . Can I hold him?"

Newt pursed his lips and leaned back. "I'm afraid that if you do that, he'll think you're part of his new family."

Clara blinked. "Oh. But I already really like him. He's sending me lovely images of the sunsets seen through the canopy in the Indonesian jungle."

Newt blinked incredulously. "He's what?!"

The squid jumped at Newt's sudden shout. Percival shot him a reproachful look. Clara continued. "I guess he could psychically sense that I had a terrible phobia of tree squids. So he's been soothing my anxiety since I entered the room."

Percival transferred the squid over to Clara. Then, the woman sang a few bars of an aria from a Wizarding opera. The squid flashed rainbow colors. For the first time in his life Newt almost wondered if he should leave the squid with Clara. He could never go back to Indonesia now. If he smelled like humans, even his own group would tear him apart.

"Do you perform?" O'Brien asked the healer.

"I used to, before I studied healing magic."

"You're quite the coloratura," Percival told her.

"Thanks, that's sweet of you to say."

Newt sighed. "One thing I can tell you is that I highly doubt this guy is going to want to be left alone for any long length of time. If you work nights, can you watch him during the day?"

"I do have to sleep, Mr. Scamander," she said with a smile. "But yes, I would love to help look after this guy."

"He probably will just need a human he knows in the rooms with him. Even with you sleeping I'm sure he'll be content to just be in your presence."

"Great," she said. "Maybe I can invite you over to a proper display of my singing abilities."

"I know a few people involved with the New York Magical Opera, I could probably get you a solo on a Thursday night."

"Really?" Clara asked, her eyes lighting up. "I just might have to beg off sick from work."

O'Brien smiled at her. "I'm surprised you can't heal people by just singing at them."

Clara beamed at him. She then stifled a yawn with the back of her hand.

"We probably shouldn't keep you awake anymore," Tina said.

Clara sighed. "I want to know what this guy's name is going to be first."

Newt looked to the squid. Clearly the creature had no preference for whatever appellations the humans bestowed upon him. Guess it was up to him, as it always was.

"How about Cecil?"

"You mean _Cecil_?" Percival asked pronouncing it the American way. The man was wearing one smartass of a smile and Newt felt a flickering of lust as he looked at the other man.

"Sure. Whatever," he said. "Cecil it is."

He opened his case and secured the ladder at the bottom with magic.

"Come on, Clara, let's settle Cecil into his new jungle. Can you climb down with him round your neck like that?"

"I think I can manage," Clara replied. True to her word, the woman navigated her way down the ladder, Cecil even shifted his body so that he was hanging down her back. The healer's eyes went wide as she surveyed the interior of Newt's case. "Jesus Christ," she breathed.

Newt laughed softly. "Not quite. But I do have quite the collection of creatures."

"How much can this thing expand?"

"A lot. My brother is a sort of secret agent for the Ministry of Magic, his connections helped me achieve what you see before you."

"Wow."

"Come on let me show you around."

Clara followed with Cecil perching on top of her head like some sort of elaborate headdress. Newt couldn't help but giggle at the squid's antics. Clara gave Newt a look. "He's quite pleased with himself, isn't he?"

"I'd say so."

"He really is just a baby."

"Thank God. The adult I saw was more than twice his size."

Newt showed her his creatures. Dougal was very interested in the squid and Newt became convinced that the two of them could communicate telepathically. Picket just stared at the squid, with a shocked and confused look on his face. He then chittered at Newt and Newt suppressed a blush as the bowtruckle asked if the squid carrying female was his new mate.

He then finally found an open space where he could apply a spell that would perfectly simulate the environment that Cecil had lived in in Indonesia. He looked at Clara and held out his hand.

"I just want to see if I can see what you saw through a psychic bridge created by Cecil."

Clara placed her hand in his and Cecil wrapped his tentacles around their outstretched arms. Suddenly Newt could see _everything_ that appeared in the squid's native habitat. He could even see individual caps of fungi and moss that was at least ten shades of green.

Then with a purposeful flick of his wand he built a replica habitat for Cecil to relax in. Clara stared in wonder at Newt's work. Cecil even stared and he unwound himself from the humans to snake his way up into the magically created trees. The tree squid burbled happily.

"I'm only leaving you on your own for a little while, okay?"

::Promise?:: Cecil said psychically.

Newt blinked. Had the squid really just psychically projected a proper English word into his mind?

:: _Promise??::_

"Yes, Cecil, I promise."

::See you after a little while::

Newt smiled and nodded. What had just happened was likely unprecedented in the history of the planet. He almost told Clara that the squid could communicate in perfect English but for once he kept his mouth in check. He knew the only people he would trust this information to was Director Graves, the Goldsteins and Jacob.

Clara waved her hand in front of his face.

"Mr. Scamander!" she said sharply.

"Oh-I'm sorry. I do that sometimes. Honestly, I'm not used to having another person around."

Clara laughed lightly. "Clearly. You seem to be a very strange man, and trust me, I mean that in the nicest possible way."

"You aren't the first person to say that, Clara. And please, call me Newt."

"Newt then," she said with an angelic smile.

If things had been different, here was where Newt would have leaned in and kissed the woman. And really, that was probably the better choice to be making instead of pining for a man who he didn't even know if there was the faintest hope of interest. Clara looked to be a sure thing. Something he could have in the here and the now. But oh, alas, he couldn't bring himself to be anything but the complete gentleman.

They exited the case and Newt locked it carefully.

"I'll bring Cecil back here in a few days. I'm sure he'll be really happy to see you then."

Clara nodded. "I look forward to it."

They all bid Clara good day, or really good night for her and apparated back to Woolworth.

"Newt do you want to come with me to see the wizard who everyone says is the sexiest man on the planet?"

Newt stopped dead in his tracks. "I'm sorry what?" Percival rolled his eyes.

"I have work to do," he said. "I'll see both of you later."

"Come on, Newt, you gotta meet him. He actually reminds me of you. He even has a pet that he brings to work!"

Newt could do nothing but trot after Tina as she strode through the labyrinth of corridors. "I'm sorry, where are we going?"

"The Department of Aberrant Magical Artifacts."

Newt tried to keep track of how to get to where they were going but it seemed impossible. He wondered if Tina was somehow using ley lines to navigate through the building. Finally after a lift ride to sub-basement level 2 they entered a large bay like room with a semicircular desk of polished onyx and oak. A blonde haired very handsome wizard sat in a chair, perusing The New York Ghost and twirling his wand idly between his fingers, his right elbow propped up on the desk.

The man wore a teal blue flat cap and a rainbow plaid formfitting vest. His dress shirt had dark blue lines running through the white and grey stripes and lines. It was also rolled up to his elbows, the same look Graves had sported. As they approached he looked up and graced them with a smile that was made for sin. Newt's stomach seized and he almost let his jaw fall open. The man's cheekbones were the stuff of absolute legend. His eyes were the color of a clear blue sky mixed with the blue of a stormy sea.

Newt knew that only a handful of seconds passed as he took in this absolute vision of a man. However, it felt like eternity. Was he being punished by some cosmic force? First Clara, now this perfect creature?

"G'day, Tina. Who's your friend?"

A goddamn Australian accent, too. Yes, the Universe was conspiring against him.

"This is Newton Scamander, Tristan. He's a magizoologist from England."

"Oh yeah?" Tristan asked turning his full attention on Newt.

Newt was sure that his cheeks were flame red.

"Tristan Crosby," the Adonis of an Aussie said extending his hand.

_Oh God, why? What have I done? Why torture me in this way?_

Newt couldn't look away from the other man's gaze and there was no mistaking the dominating gleam in Tristan's eyes as he stared at Newt. The magizoologist suddenly became _very_ aware that this particular gentleman seemed like the type to fuck first and ask questions later. Wasn't that what Newt wanted? Of course, he was more of a fuck first ask questions never type but really who was counting?

Tina took the evidence bag from her coat. She then gave Newt a sidelong glance. "Tristan here is probably the best damn curse breaker and dark magic analyst in the country, maybe even the entire world. He's so good, we only give him the hardest or most pressing cases to work on. He's down here all by himself because anyone else would just get in his way."

 _No, shit?_ Newt thought helplessly. She could have told him he was the MACUSA's secret prostitute and he would have believed her. The man just oozed sex appeal from every pore in his body.

"Wow," he said, allowing himself to be stunned. Tina placed the bag with the necklace on the desk

"I'm not by myself, Tina," Tristan said gently. His shirt moved with a ripple of motion and a tiny white head poked out of his collar. "Don't forget about Miss Lulabelle. She's a leucistic sugar glider."

Tristan held the creature which chittered happily when he scratched between her ears.

If Percival Graves didn't exist Newt might already be sticking his tongue down the other man's throat.

"She's beautiful," Newt said automatically. He was proud of himself for not adding "You're beautiful," at the end.

"She sleeps in my shirt during the day, bounces off the walls at night. Silly thing won't sleep anywhere but against my skin. I have her two sisters at home and they huddle up in their hanging basket during the day."

 _If I was that sugar glider I wouldn't want to sleep anywhere but against your skin either,_ thought Newt.

Tristan tucked the creature back inside his shirt and picked up the the bag with the necklace.

"Standard diagnostics?" Tristan asked.

"Yes, but add a psychic spell workup as well."

The Aussie opened the bag and sniffed the contents. He looked up sharply.

"Why does it smell like squid?"

"Long story," said Newt.

Tristan arched a perfect eyebrow. "I've got time, mate."

"I found it in the mouth of a Tree Squid psychically summoned by a dark wizard to attack someone who had a phobia of the creatures."

Tristan cocked his head like a border collie listening to its master call a command to herd sheep. "Well _that's_ a new one."

Newt wondered how much longer he had to suffer. He cast a glance at Tina, was she _really_ unfazed by this man's charm and raw sexual charisma?

"Twenty-four hours, love, or do you need it sooner?" Tristan asked Tina. Newt blinked most curse-breakers he knew needed at least twenty four hours. Anything less than that was absolute sorcery.

"Tomorrow's fine," she said, perhaps just a touch dreamily.

_Ah, so I'm not the only one._

Tristan then focused his gaze on Newt.

"Your surname's Scamander. Are you related to Theseus Scamander?"

"H-his younger brother," Newt stammered.

"Good man, I met him when I consulted with the British Ministry."

Newt nodded dumbly. Tristan cocked his head again, and this time his eyes were practically sparkling with possibilities. All of them were varying degrees of filthy depravity. It really wasn't fair that this man existed.

"Do you like pasta, Newton?"

Newt tensed up. Here was the moment he'd been dreading since he'd locked eyes with the man. Anyone with a brain knew that this was _not_ an invitation to dinner, but an invitation to sex. Some seriously hot sex.

What was he going to do, go confess his feelings to Percival? Did he really have a snowball's chance of bedding the Director of MACUSA's security? Was he just holding on to a hope that had no seeds in reality? Hadn't it been quite a few weeks since he'd enjoyed an honest to goodness good fuck?

And really, could he really turn down such an invitation from a man like this?

But then, what would the Director think if he knew Newt had spent the night with the Australian? If he was as shameless as Tristan, Newt would simply walk into Graves' office and kiss him.

"Maybe another time," Newt said, part of himself screaming at him that he'd made the wrong decision. Precisely, the part of him that lay below his belt.

Tristan blinked at him, a not quite surprised expression on his handsome features. He nodded in understanding, perhaps a little too much understanding. Suddenly, Newt wondered if Percival Graves had slept with Tristan.

God, he needed a cold shower.

He and Tina bid their farewells to Tristan Crosby sex god and curse breaker extraordinaire. Tina noticed Newt was shaking as they left the basement.

"You okay?" she asked.

"I just need some water, or maybe vodka."

Tina arched a brow. "You look flushed."

 _Yeah, no shit, woman._ Newt regretted the rude thoughtimmediately. Thank God, Queenie wasn't around.

"Are you going to be sick?" she asked, concern in her voice.

"I . . . I don't think so."

They returned to the office and Newt looked down at the notes he'd made earlier in the morning. He had more questions and he wanted to ask some questions about the case to Director Graves.

Too bad he was scared shitless of being alone with the man now.

_Oh well, stiff upper lip and all that rot._

Somehow, he needed to find out if Percival Graves was at least interested in men. He had a terrible inkling that Tristan Crosby would be quite happy to tell him the answer, for a price.

Maybe he'd just curl up on the floor and have a good cry. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A "coloratura" is a soprano who has such a pure vocal control and range that she can "play" with the color and sound of the notes she sings  
> The Tree Squid is actually not my idea, it was featured in the documentary of the early 2000s called "The Future is Wild" and I believe its the work of speculative evolutionary biologist Dougal Dixon.

**Author's Note:**

> Luckily, I'm not quite using the idea of Dream Walkers in my original work anymore so I can play with the idea in this fandom instead! I will try to update as frequently as I can because I guarantee you I want to write this story as much as you want to read it.
> 
> On the tarantulas mentioned, bites from that particular genus are quite a nasty business of painful symptoms but they are not deadly. And because of the incomplete peptide chains in the venom, it's virtually impossible to be allergic.


End file.
